Recently, I came across an article about a woman who lost her job due to incontinence. The headline reads: Opera Singer Can’t Stop Farting After Surgery, Loses Job. The woman, who suffered a botched episiotomy at childbirth, now endures incontinence issues such as uncontrollable loss of gas and feces. She is suing the hospital due to loss of control, and subsequently, the inability to perform as an opera singer, her occupation. As someone who also, ultimately, had to leave her chosen profession due to incontinence and birth trauma issues, I relate to this woman on a very personal level. I applaud her ability to pursue legal action, and I admire her for going publicwith this very real, and very embarrassing issue. I was initially introduced to this story via my Facebook feed, but then dug around for other news outlets carrying the story. Largely listed under, “weird news,” and on the news feed “gawker,” I now find this story to be listed in the media as a joke. Well, guess what, it’s just not funny. Nor, is it “weird news.” The fact that the media needs to portray an article like this under “weird” eliminates it’s ability to become a mainstream health issue. Furthermore, the comments listed as a response to these articles are largely littered with middle school level jokes and puns about poop, farting, and loss of control. So, congratulations media, for making a mockery of a very real problem for a lot of women, and also, creating an outlet for those wishing to relive their middle school years with crude wisecracks. I’m not laughing.

Sometimes, I cringe. I cringe when I hear stories about birth trauma. I cringe when someone contacts me with yet another story of doctor incompetence resulting in physical and emotional harm. I especially cringe when the doctor that woman tells me about was the doctor who delivered me into my own personal hell. I wonder if this doctor knows the impact she has on some of her patients. The impact of her decisions, especially poor ones, on the individual women who she assisted during delivery and cared for postpartum. The physical and emotional scarring from a doctor who I view as callous and without empathy. I wonder, how many women have left her practice due to her incompetence, and then, I wonder, how many still remain? I cringe.

Living with a bowel disorder is not easy. In fact, it can be downright awful at times. Besides the obvious physical discomfort, emotional stress is rampant. As an ambassador for those suffering with fecal incontinence and a support group facilitator for those with bowel disorders, the theme of negativity around incontinence is a prevalent one. In fact, I urge you, if you are NOT suffering with incontinence, to imagine a day when you may be. Can you imagine how incontinence would impact your daily life? I wrote about my experiences in-depth in this post here. Can you imagine how leakage, urgency, physical pain in the rectal region, would change your outlook on your day to day, hour to hour, minute to minute happenings?

Remaining positive when dealing with your own bowel disorder is difficult. Oftentimes, bowel disorders lead to increased isolation, as the individual suffering refuses to share such personal information, and/ or feels uncomfortable leaving familiar areas. Often, people go years, even decades, before opening up about their incontinence to anyone, including health professionals. This suffering in silence wears down a person, physically and mentally.

It’s time, as a society, to stop being afraid of talking about fecal incontinence. Let’s not allow “pooping your pants” to be a punchline. It’s time to create a safe space to identify, share, and discuss incontinence. Only then, will people truly seek the treatment they need, and deserve. And, guess what, I don’t mind starting the conversation.

This weekend, a story came to my attention that left me emotionally devastated. You can read the story in its entirety here. The story highlights the birth of baby Olivia, who, following a rather tumultuous attempt at a vaginal delivery, was delivered via forceps. Because of forceps’ placement and doctor’s skill, or lack thereof, Baby Olivia’s skull and spine were broken, leaving her on life support for 5 days before she passed away. Reading this story, I can only imagine the horror and anguishthat this family feels. I can only imagine that the mother, whose body must be broken and battered from a botched forceps delivery, and whose daughter is lost to her, now has to cope with both physical and undeniable emotional pain. I can only imagine how the father, who witnessed the botched delivery, and lost his little one, will live with that emotional anguish.

I can only imagine, and reflect, on my own experience with forceps delivery. Like the mother in this sad story, c-section was pushed to the back burner. Olivia’s mother, in fact, asked for a c-section, prior to admittance to the hospital, and was told that “she’d be left with a scar.” After 3 hours of pushing, I too was told that a c-section would leave me with more physical baggage then a forceps delivery. I think, too often, that people underestimate the very real dangers of forceps delivery…in part because we are not warned of the horrors of such a delivery. I have yet to read a story of, “my wonderful forceps delivery.” I have yet to meet a woman, who delivered via forceps, with a glowing review to such a delivery.

Like Olivia’s parents, I maintain that forceps deliveries should be banned. My thoughts are, if you get to the point in a vaginal delivery where your body is just not ready/responding, then go for the c-section. In fact, my thoughts are, if you need any sort of intervention, including induction, you may as well go for the c-section. Although my thoughts may be unpopular, they are rooted in my own experiences, and in the experiences that I hear about from others who struggle on a daily basis with birth trauma.